


The Magic of Love

by SteveLovesBucky



Category: Cloud Atlas (2012), Cloud Atlas - All Media Types, Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homoeroticism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Literature, Lovey Dovey, M/M, Men Crying, Non-Graphic Violence, Paradise, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Reincarnation, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Reunited lovers, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Songfic, True Love, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2908415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveLovesBucky/pseuds/SteveLovesBucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the last night of his life, the aged Rufus Sixsmith reflects on the tribulations of life and on the last words that his beloved Robert Frobisher wrote to him. Songfiction. Based off of Lionel Ritchie's "The Magic of Love".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magic of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I own neither the characters nor "Cloud Atlas", and the song is not my creation.
> 
> “The Magic of Love” as sung by Lionel Ritchie and Russell Watson sounds like a promise about to be fulfilled. Maybe not necessarily a song between a pair of lovers, but it works. I want so much for them to be happily reunited like Robert promised his poor Rufus!

Rufus Sixsmith sighed tiredly as he secured his papers for the flight out of the country. The potential for disaster at Swanekke Island was more than he could stand; all of the people who lived in Buenas Yerbas and the towns surrounding the nuclear reactor could easily be exposed to dangerously high levels of radiation. He knew what he had observed in the Manhattan Project and had seen for himself the effects on people’s health, even if he didn’t quite understand at the time, and he did not want to risk that again. Not after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, especially since the reactors would have more widespread effects.

It struck Sixsmith as odd that he had entrusted a key to an emergency copy of his findings to none other than Luisa Rey, the daughter of Lester Rey and an accomplished journalist in her own right. But their chance encounter did not strike him as a mere coincidence; somehow, he knew that he could trust her. They were on the same wavelength. Both of them saw the injustices that the world had perpetrated and wanted so badly to set things right.

A lump came to his throat and he swiped at his eyes as he remembered the birthmark on her arm. The composer Robert Frobisher, who had killed himself over four decades earlier and broken Sixsmith’s heart, had that exact shape and color of birthmark low on his back. Sixsmith had moved on with life, but he could never forget Robert, the only person he had ever loved with a passion. They were only boys at Cambridge then… and discovering for himself Robert’s body, dead just moments before, had nearly destroyed his will to live. Nearly. As much as it hurt, he had to continue and do something beneficial for the world. He just had to.

In his last letter, Robert had written, _"I believe there is another world waiting for us Sixthsmith. A better world. And I'll be waiting for you there. "_. Ever since then, Sixsmith had prayed that this would be true. For his own sanity, he just had to believe it. He prayed that he would be reunited with the man he loved and could not forget.

_When the world is filled with thunder and the winds are storming above,_   
_Deep within the night we wonder if we've lost the magic of love._   
_But there's something inside us that looks to the sun._   
_We dream that this light will guide us with love for everyone._

The click of a gun hammer cocked behind his head focused Sixsmith’s attention immediately. No, this could not be happening. Not when he was preparing to expose something that could be vitally important.  
His mind raced as he thought of everything that he had done in his life, every triumph and every tragedy, of Robert’s suicide, of the years he spent with the Manhattan Project, of the prizes that he had won, and now someone was trying to silence him.

But he remembered with a spasm of hope that he had told Ms. Rey about his niece, Megan Sixsmith, who had followed in his footsteps and was building a name for herself as well. He had given Ms. Rey access to the copy of his findings. A sense of peace suddenly filled him. He now understood that he was right to entrust his information to Luisa Rey. That they had not met for nothing or out of mere coincidence. 

He thought of Robert and tears of hope spilled over his cheeks. _”Please be there, Robert~!”_ he thought as the sound of a gunshot pierced the air.

_When the birds of war are flying and the clouds are heavy with rain,_   
_Seems as though the skies are crying, and we feel the cold tears of pain._   
_But there's something inside us that looks to the sun._   
_We dream that this light will guide us with love for everyone._

Sixsmith reeled as the scent of gunpowder and blood filled his nose. He remembered that smell, but he scarcely had time to reflect on that before he noticed that he seemed detatched from his body. He saw in the room the man who shot him and his scattered papers around his dead body, shot through the head.

A flash of golden light entered his vision. While it was as bright as the sun, it didn’t hurt his eyes. He could feel himself floating, like he was rising. He felt himself travelling through time and space, suddenly remembering other lifetimes that he had lived. He distinctly remembered working as an archivist in Korea at some point long after his own century, many people that he had been. But the love that he had experienced with Robert Frobisher had left an indelible mark on his soul, had made their story the most “real”, the most lasting part of him.

The light began to fade, revealing a landscape that he had not seen in years. _“Corsica?!?”_ he gaped in awe. Even in the fading sunset, he knew that it was Corsica. Scents from plants that he had forgotten reacquainted themselves with him and even in the fading evening light he recognized the landmarks. Even his clothing felt different. His hands touched the fabric of the dress shirt that he had worn the night that he and Robert had first kissed and he was amazed to see that his hands, his arms were smooth, supple, and young again. His hands flew to his face and hair; his face was also smooth and pliant again, and his hair was full and thick again. He was young again.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d come,” a familiar voice came from behind Sixsmith, “My darling Sixsmith, I’m so happy that you’re finally here!”

Sixsmith gingerly turned, as though he was afraid that this was just a dream. Robert stood before him, as beautiful as he had ever been. He wore the same clothing that he had worn the night of their first kiss, except that he wore the vest that Sixsmith had lent to him after their last night in Cambridge.

In an instant, they were in each other’s arms, eagerly kissing to compensate for all of the years apart. Sixsmith was overcome with emotion; Robert was real, he was alive, he was in his arms again. His kiss still tasted of nectar and soft summer breezes, he still smelled so sweet. Tears coursed over his cheeks as he buried his face against Robert’s neck, tears of residual pain and yearning but overwhelmingly of pure joy that they were together again.

Robert ran his hand through his lover’s golden hair, savoring the warm silkiness that he had missed so terribly. Warm tears spilled from his own eyes as he held his weeping lover tightly, relieved and overjoyed to hold Rufus again. “Let it all out, my love,” he crooned as he rocked with Sixsmith, “We’re safe here and I’ll never leave your side, now.”  
Sixsmith raised his gaze, his eyes red and his face flushed, to meet Robert’s eyes before he felt Robert’s lips kissing his tears.   
“I cannot begin to say how happy I am that you were right that there was a better world for us, Robert…!”  
Robert gently raised Rufus’ face to meet his own, “I only hope that you can forgive me for how I left you, darling.”  
“I’ll never forget that terrible scene,” Rufus’ voice was soft and brittle, “But it doesn’t seem to matter anymore…!” He reached up to Robert’s face and wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks, which caused Robert to smile peacefully and return the gesture.

_Love is there for us, everywhere for us_   
_In the sound of praying, little children playing_   
_Open your heart._   
_Love to each of us, here in each of us_

A bed sat in the grass and Rufus instantly recognized the frame from his room at Cambridge, a bed that would have overlooked the bay in the daylight. He was amused at the image before Robert gestured to the sky.  
“The Corsican Stars, my Rufus. I promised you that we would meet again beneath them.”  
“This is the eternity that you promised, darling…!” Rufus smiled contentedly as Robert caressed his back. His body reawakened at the touch, remembering the joyous passion that they were eager to regain.

Robert all but tore the vest from his body and tossed it aside before he removed his dress shirt with equal haste. His naked chest was as lean and muscular as Rufus remembered and he pulled his lover in to cover his neck and bare shoulders with kisses, his hands savoring the soft skin that he had missed so much. Running his hands over Robert’s naked torso, he gently kissed the burgundy nipples, earning him a shudder of excitement as his left hand caressed over the skin on the right side of Robert’s lower back, just above his waistband.  
Robert chuckled, “Yes, my birthmark is still there dearest, if that reassures you,” to which Rufus returned the laugh.  
“Come. Let me…!” Rufus could not discard his shirt fast enough and he gasped as Robert’s naked chest met his own. The brunet kissed his way down the blond’s neck and rosy chest until, eliciting shivers of delight from Rufus before Robert’s lips enveloped a taut, pink nipple and Rufus arched his back. He’d forgotten how sweet that this felt.

Robert doffed his trousers and underclothes as eagerly as he could and tumbled naked onto the bed, taking Rufus with him, the blond giggling in surprise before his lover interrupted him in mid-laugh with a hearty kiss.   
“I’ve waited to do this again for so long…!” Rufus gasped as he kissed his way down his lover’s chest and belly, making Robert writhe as he kissed his nipples and belly button, very much aware of his arousal in the thicket of obsidian curls that adorned his loins. Robert’s scent, so long denied to him, thrilled Rufus. Despite his own long-frustrated desires, Rufus was eager to give Robert his release.

“Rufus, darling, after all that I put you through, I only think it fair that you be first,” Robert scolded gently.  
“I want to do this, Robert,” Rufus replied, “I’ve missed your body as much as I’ve missed your heart, mind, and soul…!”

Nearly all speech left Robert’s tongue as Rufus yielded his attention to the virile blossom of Robert’s loins, his mouth caressing and adoring his lover’s intimate parts as Robert writhed and moaned in delight, lifting his hips as the tension within him mounted.   
\-----

As Robert recovered from his orgasm, he eagerly set to removing Rufus’s trousers. He gasped as he saw Rufus lying naked beside him once again. He was so beautiful…! Robert kissed the skin over Rufus’ breastbone before he put his ear to it, listening to the beautiful sound of his beloved’s heartbeat as Rufus wrapped his arms around him, fluffing the shock of unruly raven hair that he’d missed so much.

Robert became even more empassioned as he kissed the taut, rosy buds of Rufus’ chest, kissing his way down his beloved’s pale belly, caressing his thighs as he came upon the nest of golden curls that surrounded his masculine fruit. Overcome, he kissed the pale loins, resting his face on them as Rufus moaned for his touch.

The caressing warmth of Robert’s mouth upon his most intimate parts made Rufus lift his back from the bed.  
“Release it for me, darling,” Robert whispered before he resumed pleasuring his beloved, gently cupping and stroking his alabaster thighs and buttocks.   
Gasping, his head pushed deep into the pillows, Rufus found release for the first time in ages.

_Constant as the moon glows, or the way the grass grows_   
_Always and forever._   
_Love is the river that fills every sea,_   
_And it's waters that mirror the way life should be._

Rufus could have sworn that he saw sparks as he lay gasping after the orgasm swept from his body. He was weak and half-blind from euphoria.

“Rufus, my darling Sixsmith, are you all right?” Robert’s anxious voice came from beside him.  
Turning his head gingerly, Rufus saw Robert’s concerned smile. Rufus smiled broadly in return, his eyes brimming again as he rolled into Robert’s arms.

Wrapped around each other again, wrapped in silken sheets, Rufus listened fondly to Robert’s beating heart and gently kissed the breastbone over it, prompting his lover to tighten the embrace and kiss his hair before Rufus rose to capture Robert’s lips in a loving kiss.  
“I never would have throught that we would be reunited in the very place where we fell in love…!” Rufus murmured against Robert’s collarbone after they’d exhausted themselves from kisses, “I never want this to end, my love…!”  
“It won’t end, darling,” Robert caressed his hair, neck, and back, “We have eternity to share here, under the Corsican Stars.”

The rest of the night, their hands, their mouths explored and caressed each other’s legs, chests, faces, necks, buttocks, loins as they became reacquainted with each other, loving and pleasuring each other without fear or shame of what others would think. Two souls in a loving duet under the timeless Stars of Corsica.

_When the world is free of thunder, and the skies are peaceful above,_   
_Once again we'll know the wonder of the magic power of love,_   
_Oh, the magic of love._


End file.
